


Abandoned

by Smiling_Seshat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Nurmengard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 22:51:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8596912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smiling_Seshat/pseuds/Smiling_Seshat
Summary: After all this time, Albus still cares for his best friend.





	

The building was large and towering. The jet-black stone, as well as the oppressive air, gave the fortress a rather grim appearance, despite the balmy weather. Carved over the entrance was the following motto:

_Für das höhere Wohl._

The day was sunny, and so it was easy enough to decipher the worn letters that had been carved there years ago.

_For the greater good._

It was a utilitarian concept, one Albus Dumbledore was rather familiar with. He had mixed feelings about the phrase, because, while it was a philosophy he believed in, it had memories associated with it that weren't all that positive.

The inside of the prison was just as foreboding as its exterior, with a distinct lack of proper lighting or much furniture beyond the essentials. Albus walked into the building with a powerful stride, holding tightly onto a small bag. Immediately, he was stopped by a pale, sickly-looking guard with disquieting scars. The guard pointed his wand at him, watching him warily.

_"Ihr Name und der Gründ für Ihren Besuch Bitte?"_

Albus cocked his head to the side, curious. The guard was obviously new, explaining why he hadn't known Albus was a regular visitor.

"My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. I have come to visit an inmate."

The guard's eyes glinted in recognition, and he lowered his wand.

"I have heard of you. You defeated Dark Lord Grindelwald. You... saved us all." The guard looked as if he could scarcely believe his eyes. "You're a hero. No one will ever believe me if I told them I've seen you here."

His accent was Irish and he spoke flawless English. Albus wondered if he was part British.

Albus inclined his head. "I did what had to be done."

Indeed he had. After his legendary battle with Gellert Grindelwald, he'd become quite the celebrity in most of Europe. After all, he had single-handedly stopped a war. The people loved him for it, and the fame he'd received afterwards had been (and still was) quite impressive for a man who'd never had that much attention directed at him before. There had been drawbacks, of course, one of them being the British Ministry of Magic.

The Ministry hadn't been overly thrilled about what Dumbledore had done. Of course, they'd been glad a great threat to the nation had been vanquished, but the fact of the matter was that Dumbledore's actions had not only made the authorities look incompetent, but had, by all accounts, been both overly brash and foolhardy. Minister Leonard Spencer Moon had not been discreet in any way about his annoyance. One of the only notable Ministry workers to _not_ dislike Dumbledore was Millicent Bagnold, Junior Minister in the Department of Foreign Relations.

"You are here to see _him_ , I assume?" asked the guard.

"He is in the East Wing, is he not?" Albus asked, despite already knowing the answer.

"At the top, locked up tight," answered the guard. "Don't stay longer than an hour, or the security measures will kick in, and you'll be trapped."

Albus tipped his hat at the guard and went on his way.

There were no more guards to be seen as he walked towards his destination. Nurmengard was operated mostly by automatons, and the few guards present were mostly insurance in case anything happened to them.

It took ten minutes for Albus to arrive in front of the right door. He peered in through a small opening that stood at eye level. It was as large as the length of a hand, and through it one could see a cell, and a man:

Gellert Grindelwald.

Albus reached for the small bag he'd brought along with him. He fished through it, his entire forearm disappearing inside the too-small bag, proof of the Expansion Charm placed there. Finally, he found what he had been looking for and brought his arm back out. Nestled in his hand was a packet of sherbet lemons.

During all the time they'd known each other, Gellert had always nurtured quite a bit of an obsession with the lemon-flavoured sweet. He would constantly have some in his pockets, and would always offer one to Albus. As time had passed, Albus had started associating the sweet with his friend, and eating sherbet lemons had become a comfort.

"Good afternoon, Gellert," said Albus cheerfully, using his wand to levitate some of the sweets into the cell through the small opening. His tone was pleasant and warm with fondness. "Last time, we parted on less-than-amicable terms, so this time, I have come bearing gifts. I wasn't quite sure what would be best, so I've decided on-"

"What a fine jest this is," Gellert drawled, his gaze never leaving the ceiling. He was sprawled on his bed, his hands resting behind his head.

"Pardon me?"

"This... _infatuation_ of yours seems to rise to new heights every time I see you. It ceased surprising me a long time ago, so I am asking you to _**stop**_. It's become tedious."

"Now, now," said Albus, his smile still in place. "We've had our disagreements in the past, but it is nothing that cannot be overcome."

Gellert turned and glared at Albus.

"When we were young," he snarled, "I played along out of _pity_ , and because you were of use to me." His face, normally always carefully hiding his thoughts, was showing disgust and anger.

In their youth, Gellert had always been adept at controlling his emotions. His time in a cell had changed that.

"But now, this... clinging affection is just _pathetic_." The last word was spat out, conveying the hatred perfectly.

There was no visible reaction from Albus.

"I see," he said finally, his tone neutral. "I shall see myself out, then."

The sherbet lemons dropped on the floor, and Albus left. He continued walking at a slow pace and turned down several hallways until he was out of hearing range. Then, he stopped.

The silence was absolute, save for his measured breathing. It came out of nowhere. Rather suddenly, Albus' face twisted, his emotional pain bared for the world to see, and not for the first time, Albus let himself slump down, his shoulders shaking in silent sobs.

His heart felt as if it were being torn to pieces.

It took him exactly one minute and thirty-two seconds to gather his bearings and hide how pained and hurt he felt by Gellert's spiteful words. Then, like a switch had been turned, Albus regained his normal and flawless composure. He turned and walked straight back towards the cell.

He retraced his steps, turned once, and then found himself in front of the same door. He peeked towards the opening, and saw Gellert restlessly pacing back and forth in his cell.

"Gellert, old friend!" said Albus jovially, his facade up once more. "You are looking well!"

Gellert gaze found Albus' and a smile appeared. "Albus! My, my, it has been a while since you have come to visit! You should come more often. And look!" he said, holding up a sherbet lemon. "Someone brought some of my favourite."

Albus smiled. The gesture wasn't shaky in the least. Albus had had years to perfect his acting, years of having to face this, every time feeling like he was dying inside. At first, he hadn't even been able to smile when visiting Gellert. That had changed.

"That's wonderful. I hope you enjoy them."

The rest of Albus' visit didn't diverge much from the well practised script of one man visiting his old friend. They made small talk and discussed times past. Nothing more, nothing less.

Once upon a time, Albus had won, had beaten Gellert. Gellert hadn't wanted his mind to be searched which would have all of his hidden associates discovered and imprisoned, so he'd turned his wand on himself. To this day, Albus still didn't know how to heal his friend's self-inflicted psychological wound. The man's symptoms were always the same: at times he seemed to forget everything and then, he would remember it again. His personality would change, and it would be like a different person was at the helm every two minutes. There were times when he would forget himself and start to talk to the air, chatting by himself, to people that no one but he could see.

His associates' names had never been discovered. Most of those working for his cause had escaped without notice, hiding themselves until the suspicions and rumours surrounding them simmered down. Gellert had protected those that worked for him and those that helped his cause, but the ultimate price had been the cost of his mind. All attempts to pull the information from the wizard's mind, both magical and mundane, failed. He couldn't even be interrogated under a Truth Serum. Nothing worked. Whatever Gellert had thought so important, to the point that he would rather damage his mind than reveal it, was gone. What was left was a pale shadow of the once great Gellert Grindelwald.

Gellert was alive, but his mind was in tatters. There was just enough left to offer glimpses of hope to Albus, before reality crushed it and left Albus forever disappointed.

The day Albus had won their duel, Gellert had left. Albus was alone and feeling the weight of the pain and hurt every time he saw his friend.

_Für das höhere Wohl._

It had been for the greater good, but that greater good was a painful and hollow victory. He had won, but even now, his heart ached for the man who had once been so strong. He had won, but he had been in mourning ever since. Gellert had left him alone with his regret and his remorse. Perhaps, in his own way, Gellert had won as well.

It was a stalemate in emotional purgatory. The only difference was that Albus Dumbledore walked free on the opposite side of the prison bars, and Gellert walked only in the broken corridors of his self-induced, broken mind.


End file.
